And when she’d claimed her prey the enchantress would take wing from the top of the tower, vanish into the darkness and never be heard of again. Actually she would take wing from Manchester airport, and be heard of constantly in the glossy magazines. But in his state of morbid awareness it amounted to the same thing.
At any moment she would appear, the diamond tiara sparkling on her head, the luxurious dress flashing with jewels, ‘a rich man’s daughter’ come to claim her kingdom-until she tired of it.
A buzz of excitement came from near the entrance. Those who could see outside were smiling, turning to their neighbours, sending a frisson through the whole congregation. High overhead the organ pealed out ‘Here Comes The Bride’, and the next moment he saw her head and shoulders, rising slowly as she climbed the steps and stood for a moment silhouetted in the doorway as though she’d risen from the sea behind her.
The sun blinded him, and he had to blink, trying to make out who this woman was, because she bore no relation to the predatory female of his fears. As she began to move slowly down the aisle, her hand on Larry’s arm, Jarvis squinted, not daring to feel the hope that was rising madly within him.
No ‘rich man’s daughter’, but a wild flower whose beauty lay in grace and simplicity. Her black hair was worn loose, flowing down almost to her waist. She wore no veil, and no diamond tiara, only a spray of white flowers in her hair. More white flowers rested in her arms. Her wedding gown was made of some soft material that fell in straight lines to the floor. The effect was plain to the point of austerity, and utterly entrancing.
Behind her trotted six little girls dressed in blue satin, also decked with flowers. They were all from the estate, and Jarvis wondered when she’d found the time to meet them, and what instinct had made her get this so right.
He closed his eyes and opened them slowly. It was happening again, two women in one, the glossy creature blending into a sweet, gentle woman who had some secret understanding that sent her to her wedding without adornment except for the glow in her eyes.
Meryl, her gaze fixed on Jarvis, knew that she’d astonished him, as she’d hoped. For one moment his wariness was gone as he reached for her with a hand that enfolded hers warmly, eagerly. It was almost as though he would draw her to him. But then he remembered his surroundings.
They were to be married by the vicar of St Luke’s, the one who’d enlisted her for the fête. Two of his little daughters were among the bridesmaids, and he was smiling broadly at the task before him.
‘I require and charge you both, as you will answer at the day of judgement, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed…’
The secrets of all hearts. Meryl heard the words as if for the first time. The secret that had flowered unexpectedly in her own heart was still new to her, still something to be pondered with wonder and hope, and kept hidden until the day she could dare to reveal it.
‘…if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together in matrimony…’
Was it an impediment that she’d browbeaten him into marriage against his will, even though she had discovered at last that this was the man her heart had chosen? Was it an impediment that he disliked and distrusted her, and would be rid of her as soon as he could?
‘Jarvis Adrian Michael, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife-?’
Now she understood why Larry had protested against this ceremony. He’d looked ahead to the solemn vows for life and known that they were the last two people who should take them.
‘Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her…?’
But if Jarvis heard the irony in those words there was no sign of it in his voice as he said firmly, ‘I will.’
‘Meryl Alicia Jeanne, wilt thou have this man-?’
Oh, they were terrible promises, she thought as the words swirled about her. Serve him, love, honour and keep him. But she had already performed one great service for him, and it was the source of all trouble between them.
‘…forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?’
For as long as he’ll let me, she thought.
She heard herself say, ‘I will.’ Then Jarvis was taking her hand in his, telling the world that she would be his wedded wife, speaking of loving and cherishing. His voice was deep, and slower than usual, as though he was lingering over the words, savouring their meaning before he uttered them. He might almost have meant them.
It was her turn to take him as her wedded husband, ‘for richer for poorer…’ She didn’t dare look at his face as she spoke.
She offered him her left hand, now bearing his mother’s ring. He glanced at it and gave a faint smile as he slid the wedding ring onto her finger.
‘With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship…’ She felt the tremor that went through him and knew that here was the unresolved question between them. He was ready to worship her with his body while his mind remained aloof and his heart was undecided. How much time did she have?
‘-and with all my worldly goods I thee endow-’
She met his eyes and saw irony in them, but also warmth. He returned her smile, almost making it a private joke between them. Her hopes rose. Where there was humour there could be understanding. Where there was understanding there could be peace. And where there was peace, there could be love.
‘You may kiss the bride.’
The vicar’s words broke into her thoughts. Before she had time to wonder how Jarvis would deal with this one his hands were lightly on her shoulders and he was drawing her towards him to rest his lips against hers. And such a feeling of happiness pervaded her that she gave a little gasp that he sensed.
His own happiness had caught him by surprise. He’d been worried about this moment-performing for an audience was how he thought of it-but as soon as he held her the audience vanished. They were alone with the scent of summer all around, and it was as though her lightness of heart had communicated itself directly to him; he who had never known what it was to be light-hearted.
He smiled at her. She smiled back and was still smiling as she and Jarvis walked the length of the aisle and out into the sunlight. Everyone who saw that smile read it differently. Sarah thought it was a smile of triumph and bit her lip. Some of the watchers thought she was enjoying a good joke from which she would soon tire. One or two of them read her correctly, and among them was Larry Rivers, who saw much that he never spoke of.
The wedding feast might have been awkward, but wasn’t, thanks mainly to Ferdy, who kept his speech short and tactful. Everyone noticed that Jarvis couldn’t tear his eyes from his bride, and there was eager applause when he took her in his arms for the first dance.
‘You did everything perfectly,’ he murmured. ‘How did you realise?’
‘I understand far more than you think, Jarvis.’
He smiled, not with his mouth but with his eyes, and her heart started to pound strongly. This was their wedding night. They’d never talked about how it would end, although she guessed he would keep his distance if he could. But she was too much a woman to let him keep that resolve.
There were duty dances to be done. Jarvis took the vicar’s wife onto the floor while Meryl waltzed with Everett Hamlin, who sang Sarah’s praises.
‘She really knows her stuff about horses. We’ve invited her over for a visit later in the year.’
Meryl joined in the praise, grateful for anything that would ease Sarah’s suppressed resentment. A few minutes later she was dancing with Benedict, who was struggling to keep his spirits up, and not succeeding.